


Chimes

by ForestFiresong



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFiresong/pseuds/ForestFiresong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There always was something special about Clear's voice.</p><p>[written for the dmmdvalentinesexpress on tumblr]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chimes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for nbclear over at tumblr for the dmmdvalentinesexpress! somehow I'm only getting around to posting it now even though it's been almost a month...oops... anway have a bunch of gross fluff haha

At first, Aoba wasn’t sure what he was hearing, and he had to set down the phone and strain his ears to pick up on the soft melodies drifting through the air. They became louder as he ventured out of Heibon’s back office, where he had been receiving calls, and into the main part of the shop. 

The music floated through the air, the tone soothing and slow; Aoba recognized the lyrics, some sappy love song that had become popular recently. But even the original singer didn’t have this undertone of sweetness, this utmost sincerity in the lyrics, ridiculous as they were-- which meant it could only be….

“Clear?”

“Ah, Aoba-san!” A fluffy white head popped up from behind the back counter, and Clear beamed at him brightly from where he had been crouching in a pile of mechanical parts. “There you are!”

Aoba glanced down at his Coil, taking a quick note of the time. “You’re early. My lunch break isn’t for another couple of minutes.”

“That’s okay!” he replied sunnily, striding out from behind the counter and thrusting his hands towards Aoba with a look of pride on his face. “I was listening to this!”

“A radio…?” Aoba stared at it for a moment-- it looked a little worse for wear, and he vaguely remembered it being part of Haga-san’s scrap pile. “Does that thing even work anymore?"

Clear shrugged. “I just did a few things to it, and look--” he changed the station, some sort of electronic song now blaring. “I guess I fixed it!”

“Huh, that’s pretty impressive…” Aoba murmured, taking a closer look at the radio. It was true that Clear performed basic maintenance on himself regularly, so fixing a machine as simple as a radio must’ve been a piece of cake. “Well, good job!”

Clear nodded happily, his pale eyes glowing at the praise. “Thank you, Aoba-san!” He rummaged around in his pockets-- whose apparent depth and size never ceased to amaze Aoba-- and produce two bento boxes. “Do you want to eat now?”

“I suppose I could take off a little early…” Aoba glanced around, even though he knew Haga-san was out on a delivery. He felt a bit guilty for taking off early, and it was kind of embarrassing to have his boyfriend drop by his workplace every couple days, bringing a bento like he was some kind of housewife. He wanted to appear diligent to his job, but if Aoba was being honest the borderline harassment he got from random strangers allured by his voice was becoming exhausting, and the thought of a break was enough to quash any sort of reluctance he’d been feeling before. “Let’s go.”

The two of them ventured to the room where Aoba typically took his lunch break, Clear still carrying the radio under his arm, looking exceptionally proud. When he set it on the couch and started to go through stations, Aoba made the mistake of offering his Coil instead, since it was easier to use and more up to date compared to the almost archaic device Clear was tampering with. 

The disappointed, kicked-puppy look was one he could _never_ deny. 

As they ate the lunch that Clear had made (Aoba marveled at his skills, and would’ve been jealous if it didn’t taste so damn good), he hummed along with the radio, which was now set to the same pop station he’d been listening to before. It was a mix of energetic club music and slower love songs, and Clear seemed to know all of the words as he enthusiastically joined in whenever his favorites came up. 

It was another thing that Aoba would always be surprised at, the way Clear’s voice could create a peaceful atmosphere even by only singing a few lines, and the sweet way the words rolled off his tongue, natural and easy. Sitting in the warmth of the midafternoon sun and surrounded by Clear’s melodious voice, Aoba felt his consciousness begin to slip. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake, but before he knew it, he was being roused by Clear’s gentle voice. 

“Huh…?” There was nothing so disconcerting as sleeping in the middle of the afternoon, and unexpectedly, too; Aoba found himself jerking up from where he had slumped against Clear’s shoulder and glancing around in obvious confusion. “How long was I…?”

“It was only about five minutes, Aoba-san,” Clear said, looking at him with an expression two parts bemused and affectionate. “Did you really fall asleep just from that?”

Aoba pulled away, running his fingers through his hair. “I got up early today,” he muttered sulkily. “And it’s your fault for basically being a siren…”

“Is that a good thing?” Clear asked, cocking his head to the side. Aoba considered it for a moment. 

“Well, sirens typically lure sailors to their death. But my point is that their singing is so beautiful that they can enrapture anyone, even if it does take them to their watery graves.”

Clear was beaming as bright as the sun. “Thank you, Aoba-san!” and Aoba laughed despite himself.

“You really do have a beautiful voice, Clear. What are you doing hanging around here? You could be some professional idol or something. I bet you’d get a lot of fans.”

“Well…” Clear set down the bento box and his chopsticks, expression thoughtful. “I don’t think singing people to sleep would make me very popular….”

“I’m sure there are _some_ songs you could sing that aren’t so… calming, you know?”

“Yes, maybe a faster song?” Clear shook his head. “But I don’t think I’d want to do that. My voice was made for singing for large crowds, but… I like it better using it like this.” He threaded his fingers through Aoba’s. “And I wouldn’t want to be away from Aoba-san, either!” 

Aoba looked away, his face warm, but not in the way that made him feel embarrassed or defensive. Instead, it was that mild, pleasant feeling of contentedness, like he could spend the rest of his day, of his life, in these warm hours of afternoon, listening to the lull of Clear’s voice until he fell asleep again. It was a feeling that bloomed from his chest and tingled through his whole body, making his lips quirk up slightly. “I don’t think I’d like that either.”

“Ah, but your voice is very nice as well! Couldn’t you be an idol?”

“Me?” Aoba thought about the guys over the phone, hanging on his every word and breathlessly begging him to speak more. His nose wrinkled. “I don’t think I could deal with any more creeps than I already do. Also, my voice isn’t that good.”

“That’s not true, I’ve heard you before.”

“Since when--?” Aoba turned towards Clear, racking his memory. He didn’t sing at all, only hummed when he thought nobody was listening. _Shit, that’s right, Clear’s hearing is super good…_ “Please don’t tell there was recording of that one time I got drunk at Mizuki’s---”

“What?” Clear laughed incredulously, and there it was-- the sound of chimes, of bells ringing on a clear night, a sound that sent Aoba’s breath spinning out of his chest and made his heart pound. “I want to see that!”

“No way. Koujaku was laughing too hard to record it, which as lucky as it gets. Never again.”

“Maybe Ren-san….” Clear glanced around, looking for Aoba’s Allmate, who was thankfully nestled in his bag and away from prying hands. “Well, anyway. I think if you can ever get over your shyness you should definitely be a singer, Aoba-san.”

“That’s probably not happening. I mean…” Aoba pressed his lips together, the feeling of words unspoken upon his tongue. “I don’t know if I’d be able to control it. Scrap, I mean.”

“Really?” 

“I never had a good grasp on it to begin with, but…” Aoba shook his head, trying to chase the thoughts away. “I wouldn’t want to risk accidentally… hurting anybody. So it’s probably safer this way.”

“I understand,” Clear said, and the playfulness was gone from his tone, replaced by one far more contemplative. “We both could cause a lot of trouble if we used our voices the wrong way. It’s kind of a curse, don’t you think? They’re supposed to be beautiful, but the people who made them only intended them for harm.”

Aoba smiled slightly. “But you have your jellyfish song, which is the opposite of grand music. If having these voices is a curse, you’ve managed to overcome it.”

Clear was still staring at him, with a look still contemplative and warm, and it was as though the breath was being sucked from his lungs, and the world was very, very quiet. “I’m sure when the time comes you could make something beautiful, too.”

Aoba took a breath. “I’m glad you have faith in me.” 

The atmosphere broke, and Clear smiled broadly, dust mites sparkling behind him in the square of sunlight coming in through the window. “Of course I do!” 

“...Thanks.” Aoba felt an unexpected wave of shyness come over him, and he picked up his chopsticks. “Let’s finish, I need to get back to work.”

Clear nodded and took his own chopsticks in one hand, using his other to interlace their fingers. Eating was harder with only one hand, but Aoba figured it was worth it as he gave Clear’s hand a tight squeeze.

x-x-x

Dawn broke over Aoba’s eyes in waves of pale blue and yellow light, pushing past his eyelids and warming his skin as he tried to hang onto the fading trails of sleep. His half-awake mind took in his surroundings and wove them into the fabric of his dreams, until everything had taken on a blurry, ethereal quality.

He heard singing.

The notes drifted through his mind, angelic in quality, and he stretched his hand out to the other side of the bed, searching for a presence only to find tangled, empty sheets. 

He burrowed deeper into his pillow, consciousness slipping further from wakefulness. The singing seemed to grow closer, before lowering into a sweet humming voice. Aoba blinked slowly, trying to pull himself out of his sleepy state, as a pair of lips softly pressed themselves to his cheek.

“Come on, wake up now, or I’ll have to get Ren-san to jump on you again!”

Aoba felt a smile form on his lips, and he let his eyes slip closed again. Even Clear’s speaking voice was like singing. _He really could be an idol. But…_

_It’s definitely better this way._

“Aoba-san! I’m going to keep kissing you until you wake up!”

“‘m awake…” Aoba opened one eye sleepily. “...but you can keep on doing that…” 

Clear laughed, and gave him another kiss, this time to his forehead, as Aoba rolled over and opened his eyes to morning light streaming through the window and through the multiple pieces of glass Clear had in his room. In that moment, everything was iridescent, and through his bleariness, Aoba thought that Clear was right; even when they were definitely cursed, something beautiful had come out of it, in the same way cloud had a silver lining and every rainbow owed its beauty to the thunderstorm before it.


End file.
